


Subject To The Prince

by teyla



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-04
Updated: 2008-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teyla/pseuds/teyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Merlin Anonymous Kink Meme to the prompt: <i>Erotic asphyxiation and bound wrists. Bonus: using Merlin's neckerchief!</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Subject To The Prince

All this pale flesh under his hands, all his and his alone. Arthur thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deep into Merlin and pressing him against the rough stone wall of Arthur's royal chambers. Arthur stays still for a moment, buried to the balls in Merlin's tight arse, breathing in deep and letting the arousal course through his veins. His hands run over the naked skin of Merlin's shoulders up over the bulges of muscle along both his arms, until Arthur's naked body is covering Merlin's completely, arms stretched out to both sides, his fingers curling around the leather clasps that are circling Merlin's wrists and holding his arms in place. Arthur lowers his head, each breath that he draws in expanding his chest and pressing him closer against Merlin's back. He takes in the scent of Merlin's hair, his sweaty skin, and then finds Merlin's ear, first nibbling, then _biting_. Merlin makes a breathless sound deep in the back of his throat, and the desperation Arthur can hear makes the heat in his groin intensify to an almost painful level.

"_Mine_," he whispers--almost hisses--and then he starts moving again; hard, deep thrusts, naked skin slapping against skin. He pulls his arms back and circles them around Merlin's chest, holding him not so much in a hug as in a death grip. His movements become more erratic, maybe he's a little desperate himself, and when he comes, the muscles in his arms tighten even more. Arthur grows completely still as he empties himself into his servant, into Merlin, surges of pleasure flooding through his body and reaching out to every nerve end.

Then it's over, and Arthur's arms all but drop away, releasing Merlin from what must have been a highly uncomfortable embrace. Arthur stumbles back a little, his softening cock slipping out of Merlin. As soon as he lets go of him, Merlin draws in a deep breath, all but gasping for air, and Arthur can see a shudder run through him. He opens his mouth to speak, but it takes a moment for his voice to return. When it does, Arthur clears his throat and reaches out to touch Merlin's shoulder. "You okay?" he asks, more than slightly out of breath. "I'm sorry, did I -"

Stupid question. Of course he's been choking him; he's been holding him tighter than a three year old kid holds on to his favourite toy when scared. Damn. He runs a hand over Merlin's shoulder in what he hopes is a soothing manner. "I'm sorry -"

Merlin is shaking his head, though. As Arthur steps closer, his left hand going to Merlin's hip, he realizes that Merlin isn't trembling with shock or lack of oxygen. Or maybe he actually is trembling because of the latter, but it's very definitely a tremble of pleasure. Arthur's hand slides around over Merlin's stomach and downwards, and sure enough, Merlin's cock is still at attention, hard and needy and moist from sweat and pre-come. Arthur rests his chin on Merlin's shoulder, his eyes widening a little in surprise. "You liked that, didn't you," he says, his voice low. "You liked not being able to breathe."

Merlin is panting with need, harsh breaths drawn into his lungs, and Arthur more feels it than sees it when Merlin nods. "Yes," he says, voice hoarse and somewhat unsteady. "Yes, Arthur, please -"

Arthur feels a smile spread on his face; oh, Merlin won't have to ask him for anything. The pleasure would be all his. Arthur continues to run his fingers over Merlin's cock, his touches light so as not to make this all end far to soon--Merlin's close, Arthur can tell from the way his head is tipped back, from the way he's leaning hard against Arthur--while his other hand, the one that had been resting on Merlin's shoulder, moves forward to cup Merlin's throat.

"Anything, Merlin," he whispers, "anything you want."

Arthur wasn't lying when he told Merlin he's been trained to kill since he was born. He knows how to end a man's life with his bare hands. Fortunately for Merlin, this means he also knows how to avoid ending a man's life when all this particular man wants is a little head rush added to the pleasure of his orgasm. When Arthur's hand tightens around Merlin's throat, his thumb and index finger pressing into the soft spots right underneath the angles of Merlin's jaw, he can feel Merlin's heartbeat, a fast but steady pulsing that becomes stronger the more he tightens his grip. Arthur's left hand is on Merlin's erection, and as Merlin's breathing becomes more and more laboured, more wetness seeps out of the head of his cock. Arthur smiles, pressing himself hard against the smaller body before him, his mouth seeking out Merlin's ear again, teeth and tongue nipping and nibbling and biting. Merlin tastes of sweat and sex and pleasure and excitement, and Arthur can feel the hunger he thought sated return with a surge of heat in his groin.

He never loses his attentiveness, though, and when Merlin's breathing goes from sporadic gasps to actually cutting out completely, he loosens his grip, his hand returning to just lying there around Merlin's throat. Merlin draws in a deep, desperate breath, and this time, being this close to him, Arthur can feel the shiver running through him. Arthur closes his eyes for a moment and lowers his head, sinking his teeth into Merlin's skin, right where neck and shoulder meet. As he pulls back, he can see the red mark he's left, and runs a tongue over dry lips.

_Mine._

In a quick, fluent motion, Arthur moves back a little and bends down to grab Merlin's neck scarf from the floor where it's lying between the rest of their scattered clothes. He's back up in a moment, pulling Merlin hard against his own body, rolling his hips against Merlin's arse. His right hand crumples the scarf into a loose ball of fabric, and with no tenderness at all this time, Arthur presses it over Merlin's mouth and nose.

"That's it," he says as he moves up closer against Merlin, his left hand back on Merlin's cock, stroking hard now. "That's it, Merlin, right there."

It doesn't take more than five hard, rough strokes until Merlin tenses in Arthur's grip and comes in hot, wet streaks that stain his stomach as well as Arthur's fingers and the back of his hand. Arthur quickly chucks the scarf aside and wraps his arms around Merlin, holding him upright as he collapses against him. For a couple of terrifying moments, Merlin fails to take a breath, and the feeling just below Arthur's stomach turns from heat into icy cold. But then Merlin shudders in his arms, and in a loud, harsh gasp starts breathing again.

Arthur exhales, the tightness in his chest relaxing, and he pulls Merlin against him, his mouth going back to Merlin's ear, not biting this time, but simply planting small, gentle kisses on the top of it. "You okay, Merlin?" he asks. "Are you all right?"

Merlin doesn't speak or open his eyes, but he does nod once in response, which is good enough for Arthur. He reaches up and in two quick movements unclasps the cuffs that have been holding Merlin's arms in position. With that support gone, Merlin's full weight falls back against Arthur, and for a brief moment, Arthur thinks he's going to lose his balance. He manages to catch himself, though, and with as much gentleness as possible, he half-drags, half-carries Merlin the few feet to the bed.

"Come on," he says as he helps Merlin climb under the covers, "that's it, Merlin."

The scarf has landed close-by, and Arthur quickly wipes his sticky hands on it before he slips under the covers next to Merlin. He props himself up onto one elbow and looks down at his servant--at his lover. Merlin's wits seem to be returning; he blinks his eyes open and gazes up at Arthur through dark, long lashes. Arthur's eyes are drawn to the red markings on Merlin's neck--it's clearly visible where Arthur's fingers were pressing into the skin--and he raises his free hand, oh-so-carefully trailing his fingertips over the red skin.

"Merlin," he says, his words almost a whisper. "Merlin, you're -"

Arthur isn't sure how he would have finished his sentence, so he's glad when Merlin reaches up and takes his hand, guiding it to his lips and planting a kiss on the fingertips. "Shush, Arthur," he says, his voice rough but tinted with affection as well as amusement. "Shut up and kiss me."

It's not an order, of course not. After all, Arthur _is_ the Prince. It's a request, though, and in his royal generosity, it's a request Arthur is only too happy to comply with.


End file.
